A Heart Split Two Ways
by Draco Malfoy is Blonde
Summary: It was written in the Latin, Volant ex Mortem, the literal translation - fly from death. She'd given me everything including a new name, one to be proud of and one to be feared - I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. Pleased to introduce the Dark Lord's motivation, share his secret past, pleased to meet Tom Riddle.
1. A Short Prologue

**Her Beginning at Wools**

 _A Short Prologue_

* * *

Wool's Orphanage had always been grey. It was the best the matron could manage. Grey linnens were cheaper, grey clothes cheaper too, and it wouldn't be fair to give some of the children colourful things when not all of them could have it. Then there was the fact that time sucked the colour out of everying, dust settled over things and made them grey, and everythign here was old - even the new things were old. The staff was limited, Mrs Ackerman the cook, Miss Murdock the nurse, Mr. Lancar the teacher and Mrs Cole, who took care of all the business, they were all parents and cleaners and laundry staff too.

Mrs Cole had never seen anything like this before. They were the well dressed aristocratic sort, snobs, was the proper term, turning their nose up at the establishment. But she turned her nose up at them, they were paying her to take in their little daughter. Only four years old, happy and healthy born to wealthy parents who were married and already had a child, had two in fact, one older and one younger. There was no discernible reason for them to give away the baby.

"Mr. Black," Mrs Cole started. "We do the best we can for the children - but that's no substitute for their parents, the money you're offering for us to take her is proof enough she would do better in your house-"

"You've already accepted the offer, she's in your hands now, how dare you question us?" Mr. Black's wife hissed, a little hysterical. "Sign the papers," she demanded and Mrs Cole did just that albeit confused. There was a large stack of paper notes put on the desk between them and the Blacks left.

"What is the girls name?" Mrs Cole sang out, figuring her parents could at least give her that. Only they left without so much as a good day, though Mrs Cole would swear she'd heard that nasty snob of a woman call her a 'filthy muggle', Mrs Cole had a few choice names for that woman too, thank-you very much.

The girl in question was sitting in the hall, watching her parents leave with an expression that did not look natural on her young face. Two seats down the hall was Tom, again. In trouble for one thing or another. Mrs Cole frowned at him briefly before turning her attention to their newest orphan.

"Do you have a name my dear?" She asks kindly. The girl shook her head.

"I'm not allowed," she answered, which even caused Tom to frown.

"Why not?" Mrs Cole asks her and she shakes her head again.

"They told me I needed a new name."

"Would you like to pick a new name?" Mrs Cole asks and she shakes her head again.

"Leave it for my new parents." The new girl says and Mrs Cole shuffles uncomfortably. It was rare any of their children ever got to go to a new family, and at four years old, this little one was too old - though Tom had been here since he was a newborn and no one ever took him, as well.

"Well we all need something to call you in the mean time, would you like to use your old name?" Mrs Cole asks the girl and she shakes her head again.

"Then I'm going to call you Victoria, like the King's grandmother. Victoria Smith. How does that sound?" Mrs Cole was relieved to see the girl smile at her suggestion.

"I do like that name," she admitted and Mrs Cole nodded.

"Good, then that's what we'll call you." Mrs Cole called Mr. Lancar to show Victoria around her new home while she turned to Tom, he was always being sent to her but never really did anything. Or at least could never be punished for the odd things that always seemed to happen around him, Miss Murdock said there was a poltergiest haunting him. She held open the door to her little office and Tom entered. Mrs Cole swept the Blacks money into the top drawer of her desk and neatly penned Victoria's name onto her paperwork while she listened to Tom explain what had happened this time.

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** All recognisable characters, concepts and settings belong to J. . This is for entertainment purposes only, no monetary profit is being made from this work.


	2. The First Chapter

**Victoria Smith**

 _The First Chapter_

* * *

That, that grey day in the hallway of Wool's orphanage, was the first time I met Victoria Smith, the girl two years my junior who had been given to the orphanage along with a large bribe. The girl who was not allowed her name - even my own mother had given me mine, with her dying breath, they told me.

I made it my duty to figure out what was wrong with the girl, her parents were evidently desperate to be rid of her. She must be rude or naughty, stupid or even evil - a thing of the devil. She was warned against me, I heard, by the girls in her dorm Amy and Martha, girls my age, they said I was weird and left me out of their games, thought she ought to know that too. I knew those girls were just frightened of me. I prefered it that way.

But Victoria was different. After that first day the other girls stopped including her like she was their dearest friend and she was as alone as I was. I never spoke to her, and she was wary of me though never unkind, she was smart too, she could write her name and say the alphabet and she knew some very strange stories. I heard her telling Amy a story about a character called Babbitt rabbity and Amy had laughed at her and called her a freak. Then they began to be outright cruel. My list of things wrong with her had shrunk rapidly to just 'odd' and that was hardly a reason to give up a little girl, was it?

Victoria smith was a smart little girl, and she figured out very quickly that if she sat near me the others wouldn't pick on her. My child's mind saw her as being very weak - the children were mean to me too and I made them pay for it - but she was not special like I was, she was just very strange. She asked questions during church, the whole Orphanage were taken to church every sunday morning and the first service Victoria had attended she had raised her hand to ask the priest a question like we were in class. The others had laughed at her.

But she would still sit by me, to stop them coming near her - becasue they were firghtened of me, even the older children, for two years every lesson and every meal saw Victoria Smith sitting next to me, Tom Riddle. I found her presence calming in that time, something constant, though I never spoke to her I felt less lonely when she would sit by me, I would worry when she was absent, she grew sick often and missed many lunches and lessons. I assumed it was because she was so weak, that she would get sick.

After those first two years she spoke to me, one day, another grey day in Wool's orphanage, as unremarkable as every other day I'd spent there for my whole life. She offered me the remaining half of her lunch. To this day I don't know if she just didn't want to waste the food or if she too could hear the persistent grumbles my stomach was making at the inadequate portions.

That night, before bed time Mrs Cole gathered all 42 children in the main hall for an important meeting. This meeting wasn't a treat, and I knew Victoria wasn't there because my quiet companion was not near me. It gave me a feeling so horrible the word worry didn't begin to cover it - dread, maybe.

"Everyone here knows Victoria Smith?" Mrs Cole had begun and I found myself nodding along with the others. She continued. "Victoria's been a bit sick these past few weeks -" I knew this was a lie because she'd been unwell for months, "and we found out today she will not get any better."

I frowned, the other children all insisted on asking questions, I even heard Amy shout 'will she die?' Which was preposterous, she was sick, weak, she had always been like that and I was sure she would get better, or at least not get worse.

What did get worse was how the other children treated the weak girl, like she was diseased - they never said what was wrong with her but it was safe to assume if it was dangerously contagous Victoria wouln't be allowed to continue on around the other children. They avoided her, refused to touch her, they were still mean, they threw things, tripped her up, played run away and laughed at her.

It made me angry, to see the injustice done to the weak girl. It was a grey Tuesday that I first spoke to her. She was six, and I had just turned eight. Her hair was black and thick her eyes heavily lidded and her cheekbones high. She had blue eyes, peircingly so and high cheekbones, hidden somewhat by the baby-fat a six year old normally carries. She also had a large bruise on her right eye, more bruises up her arms where her grey dress didn't cover the skin.

She couldn't get up the stairs. Not by herself, normally Miss Murdock would help her or ask an older orphan to help but today she was alone. She was about half way up - and that much had cost her three quaters of an hour - when Billy Stubbs knocked her back down. She fell, and even though I darted forwards, pure reflex to catch her, the short fall she took hurt her. She was crying, silently. I looked at Billy, who hadn't seen me and looked frightened by my helping Victoria. Billy left and I picked up Victoria and helped her up the stairs.

"Thank you Tom." She said meekly through her tears.

"You're welcome." I replied, becasue it was the normal reply. I went to let go of her but something stayed my hand. "Are you alright?"

She nodded. Rubbing her elbow. "Just sore. I fall lots."

"Well look at you two getting along!" Mrs Ackerman - the cook - exclaimed seeing us together in the hall. Victoria's cheeks coloured a light pink and she looked to the gound. "Are you okay Victoria dear? Did Tom help you up the stairs?"

I expected Victoria to tell the cook about Billy Stubbs, he pushed her, after all but she just nodded.

"Tom helped me." She said and the cook beamed at me - unnerving, becasue it was rare a smile was ever directed my way.

"Good boy Tom!" Mrs Ackerman praised me, "Such a lovely gentleman."

"But Billy-" I made to say, and Victoria tugged on my sleeve, shaking her head, the cook, so caught up in my helping the little girl didn't notice.

"If I tell, they get worse." Victoria said in a voice that was begging me to keep this a secret. I nodded, on the outside, but on the inside I was furious.

It was after dinner that caught me two paces from Billy Stubs on the stairs, it was an easy thing to reach out and shove him without using my hands. A push on his front and a pull on his legs found him falling backwards, I stepped out of the way and he tumbled a little ways before another orphan caught him and righted him.

"You pushed me!" Billy accused, catching the attention of Mrs Cole.

"I did not!" I defended myself, "You're clumbsy!"

Billy made forwards as though he was going to hit me, but Mrs Cole caught him.

"To bed, Tom." She told me, dragging Billy away. I went to my room, room 27. I was the only one with a room to himself and opened the window.

We weren't all allowed to have pets, there were pets in the yard though. Billy was fond of the rabbit. He was two years older than me and wouldn't let anyone else near that rabbit, we all called it Billy's rabbit. I was watching the rabbit. As the old clock in the hall chimed midnight I made easy work of climbing from my window to the yard, and I snapped the rabbits neck without lifting a finger, it dies at my feet and made me feel powerful, special, like Billy was finally getting his due.

I didn't like the bodies, not now, so I made the rabbit float behind me back into the Orphanage, and in the meal hall from the rafters I hung the rabbit to show Billy what would happen to him next time he shoved Victoria Smith down the stairs.


	3. The Second Chapter

**Breakfast and Lunch**

 _The Second Chapter_

* * *

I couldn't sleep the night I killed the rabbit. I was too excited to see Victoria's reaction to her injustice being punished, I was as breakfast early, the rabbit still hung from the rafters and I was worried no one would notice it, but I waited for the hall to fill. Billy came in, smiling, as though he was having a good day and I was pleased his day would be ruined. Victoria was helped down the stairs by Miss Murdock and then I saw fit to draw attention to the rabbit. It was easy, really, to make the dead body squeal and twitch, as though it had been hanging while it was alive. The children and staff all looked up at the spectical and they all were horrified.

Victoria was looking between Billy and I, I winked at her, a smile on my face, she paled, her hands covered her mouth, she was scared of me. The rabbit fell limp.

We were told to take our breakfast in our rooms and I waited until Miss Murdock made a move to help Victoria.

"I can help her miss." I said, the woman looked shocked but nodded. "You need to help the poor rabbit."

Miss Murdock offered me a strained smile and I picked up my breakfast and went to Victoria.

"What did you do Tom?" Victoria whispered. I picked up her breakfast as well and offered her my arm, she leaned on me heavily, she walked weirdly, bent over, like her legs weren't strong enough to hold her up.

"Its Billy's rabbit." I explained.

"The rabbit didn't push me." She argued, "And now Billy will hurt me more - he'll want revenge." The halls were empty now, my companion and I had reached the thin rickety stairs.

"I'll protect you." I told her. Vowed even, I knew I was capable of it. I wanted to reassure her. I let go of our breakfast plates and they floated in the air, Victoria's eyes went wide in shock and I held both her arms.

"Tom." She whispered. I helped her up the stairs without saying a single word. At the top of the stairs she plucked her plate from midair and turned to face me. "Thank you." She mumbled then went into her room. I made my way back to room 27 with my breakfast plate, now held fast between my hands. I wondered what she was thanking me for, exactly, for punishing Billy, I'd assume.

The day went by weirdly, the rabbit in the rafters had set the children on edge. Our first event, or class would be mathematics with Mr. Lancar. And all 42 children were put in the same class, we were taught only the basics, addition, subtraction, multiplication and division, fractions and decimals, weights, times, tempertures, quantities and how to count money. He set different work for the older children and simler work for the younger. Victoria sat by me but didn't speak to me. Billy was looking at me angrily. I smiled at him, no a plesant smile.

I wanted him to know I killed the rabbit and I wanted him to know I'd do the same to him if he crossed me again. They whispered, Billy and his friends, looking over their shoulders and Victoria and I. The attention was making Victoria uneasy and she showed her discomfort.

"Don't let them know they bother you." I whisper to her, she looked surprised that I'd spoken to her but didn't say anyhting back, and while she tried to hide her discomfort she did a poor job of it.

It was at mealtime I was pulled away from the others, Mrs Cole had a hand over her eyes and was apparently content to ignore me sitting in front of her desk.

I was missing my lunch for this.

"Tom," She finally spoke, "Do you know anything about the rabbit? What happened to the rabbit?"

"No ma'am." I replied easily.

"You got into a fight with Billy yesterday, didn't you?" She asked and I nodded.

"He thought I pushed him, but I didn't. He fell on me. What does that have to do with the rabbit? Do you think Billy killed it?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Billy didn't kill it. It was Billy's rabbit." She told me. I didn't smile, even though the woman was playing into my trap.

"I thought the pets were for everyone." I told her and she looked caught, she nodded.

"Yes they are." Mrs Cole put her hand to her eyes again. "You can go Tom," she muttered and I stood and left the room. In the lunch hall Mrs Murdock was on the ground next to Victoria cleaning up the spilled content of her lunch tray. I stood over them.

"What happened?" I asked her. She shook her head. Miss Murdock stood with the tray in hand.

"Nothing to worry about Tom, Vicky just fell." She said. Victoria cringed at the nickname, I new she didn't like it. Mrs Murdock was lying, I knew she was. It wasn't just a fall.

"Don't lie." I told her, she looked shocked but I offered my had to Victoria. "What happened?"

Victoria pursed her lips and shook her head, but I saw Billy and his friends watching me apprehansively. It was them, whatever they did. I grabbed my own lunch tray and an extra fork.

"Share mine." I ordered. Victoria looked as though she was about to protest but her stomach rumbled and she blushed.

"Thank you Tom." She mumbled quietly.

"Don't be frightened of them." I insisted, "They're nothing."

She looked ar her hands in her lap as she answered me.

"Maybe to you." She said quietly. "They'll hurt me."

I didn't know what to say to that. I should tell her to defend herself - hurt them ack but she was so little and weak, and kind. There was a kindness about her that bordered on stupididty, she wouldn't hurt those kids no matter how much they hurt her becasue she didn't like to hurt things. Only I already knew I couldn't be around her always - especially when she was confined to her dorms, I was a boy, I was not allowed into the girls dorms.

The rest of that day was quiet, for the most part. The staff were all quiet and a good deal of the students - Victoria and I included - but everyone else were whispering. The dead Rabbit still hung on everyones thoughts. Who killed it and why had they strung it up in the rafters of the breakfast hall. I was delighted to hear the other children speculate that it was a warning to Billy - and even more delighted when people drew the conclusions he was being punished for how he treated everyone else.


	4. The Fourth Installment

**Brace Yourself**

 _The Fourth Installment_

* * *

In two years time, Victoria's unnamed condition worsened. It was not always the forefront of my mind but it was a worry.

I still didn't believe she would die, even though she herself seemed to hint at it. She now had a walking aide and could not move far without them, two braces, one for each of her claves, made of some kind of metal which were both strapped to her legs, they helped her stand. She said to me she was uncomfortable without them on, her legs were not strong enough to bare her weight. I hated the things, they were so obvious, evidence of her weakness and she was teased all the more for them when she first got them she refused to come out of her room, her dorm mates, Amy and Emily laughed at her for them and told all of the other children that she was a freak. She would not put them on, and couldn't walk without them.

Mrs Cole asked me to speak to her, we were going on a trip to the seaside - the first and possibly only time any of us would get the chance to see the sea - and Mrs Cole didn't want Victoria to miss out.

I agreed. Though felt very out of place in the girls room. Victoria had to share her bedroom with Amy Benson and Emily Ghreer, the two older girls were horribly messy, their things took up most of the space in the room and were strewn across the floor. Victoria was laying in bed silent.

"Victoria?" I asked, my voice was not one the girl expected to hear and she startled. The metal braces were besides her bed.

"You're not allowed in here." She whimpered, I offered her my hand and helped her to sit.

"I've come to take you to the sea." I told her, pulling each of the braces towards me, It was a simple thing to help her to put them on, but the sight of them filled me with fear. "Stay with me," I said, "I'll hurt anyone who laughs at you."

Amy Benson was the worst, pointing outright and laughing as I helped the slight girl down the stairs, Dennis Bishop made a joke, and the other children started on her. I glared at them, I made them all stop laughing, their eyes went wide as their mouths snapped shut.

Mrs Cole distracted us all then, coming into the room to tell us the bus was here - I'd never been on a bus or any sort of motorcar before, and even Victoria looked excited at the idea of going for a ride on the hulking metal machine. It took us to the coast, where I challeneged Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop to go into a very dark, deep cave with me. I made them hurt, I made them scream and I told them if I ever heard another word come from their mouths I would hang them from the rafters like Billy's rabbit.

Neither of them spoke again.

That incident saw me where I am now, in the girls bedroom - now tidy, another story - some time later. Helping Victoria into her braces again.

"Thank you Tom." She told me, "And happy birthday." Victoria held out a small, shiny pebble. It wasn't much, it was pretty - and the journey she had to take to go outside was a long one which she didn't like to take, no matter how much help she had. I was eleven today, on the last day of the year. That was the day I met Albus Dumbeldore.

I didn't like the man much, or really the news he brought me - that I was not special but one of many - I'd tried to convince him that I was different but he wan't impressed. The oppertunity to escape the orphanage for most of the year was an exciting prospect though, so I returned the stolen items.

I told Victoria the lie the others heard - she'd seen my powers, if fleetingly - and I didn't believe she needed to know the full extent of them at Hogwarts I flourished, I did not expect to enjoy the school as much as I did though, like at the orphanage I grew to dispise my peers, they thought I was weak. A poorly orphan mudblood they called me.

I could make them hurt too, becasue I was special still, more powerful than them all, I could talk to snakes and do spells without my wand - but I knew the value of that secret and made sure I was never caught.

Everything hinged on the one word that would haunt me, Mudblood. I asked my potions professor its meaning and he was offended that I'd even said it out loud - dirty blood - someone who was muggle born, like I thought I was, my mother, according to the orphanage was from the circus, my father - they thought he was still alive - had never come to get me, despite my wearing his filthy, common muggle name.

"I like my name." Victoria told me, the first summer I got back, she was now 10, and while she hadn't gotten better she also seemed to have not gotten any worse, but would avoid the stairs if you let her, so we were both sitting on her bed. "You should like yours, it was apart of your family." She told me. "Even if they're gone."

"The children at my school tease me becasue of my name." I tell her. "My heritage."

Then she'd given me the idea to look for my family. "You told me before you were named for your father and grandfather, and Marvolo is not a common name." She pointed out. "Its not much, but its somehting."

"Do you remember your family?" I'd asked her. It was something we never spoke about - I was born in the orphanage and that was my whole past, she wasn't. She was four when she got here and I remember the day. Victoria Smith was not her real name.

"I do," She told me, sadly. "They were... a very different sort of people. And I didn't really belong."

I wondered at this. I'd always thought her parents had known she was sick, but Miss Murdock had let slip that Victoria's symptoms were progressive, not relapsing which meant they couldn't have known becasue she had no symptoms before she was five. "What was your real name?" I asked her then, wondering if she'd remember. She seemed to weigh the question in her mind.

"I don't remember." She said, but I knew she was lying to me. I didn't want to fight with her, so I let her lie to me.


	5. The Middle Section

**The Noble and Most Anchient House**

 _The Middle Section_

* * *

I was a Gaunt. I'd found my heritage easily enough. My grandfather was named Marvolo Gaunt. Moreso I was a direct descendant to Slytherin's line - a parselmouth, which was why I could talk to snakes. It was a rare gift, even in a world full of wizards. At twelve perhaps I was a little old to call myself special, but I was.

I didn't tell anyone this - they didn't deserve to know, as well I had a task to do, a keen way to exact revenge on the people who had been so crule. I had spent all year looking for the chamber of secrets, after finding my true heritage.

Of course there were scarce few clues and I quickly grew frustrated with the task over the year. It was this summer I would be a little relieved to be away from the frustratingly unyeilding halls of Hogwarts. If only to see Victoria.

Visiting her - becasue I could not say I was going home for the summer, Hogwarts was my home - always filled me with dread, for the day I would see her and she was unable to move or had gotten worse, but it hadn't happened yet and when I saw her again this year she seemed the same. At ten, a year older but no weaker.

I found her useful in that she listened to my frustrations about finding the hidden chamber at my school.

"It sounds like something from a fairytale," She muttered. "Slytherin's chamber of secrets." I nodded but paused, looking at her with narrowed eyes.

"Victoria I never mentioned Slytherin."

"Your school house." She muttered, though I'd never told her about the sorting, "I assumed."

She was lying again.

"Don't lie." I said, I woudn't let her lie to me twice. Her eyes went wide, as though she were afraid of me.

"Victoria?" I asked her, she pursed her lips and shook her head. "You know about my school, don't you?" I asked instead and she nodded.

"I do," She said, a cheeky smile split her lips. "I've always known Tom."

It was my turn to be shocked by her secrets, I thought I knew her - had always know her; _but_ I hadn't there were those first four years of her life that she was with her real family.

I knew I could figure this out. There must be the reason she knew it all. All but not everything, I was careful then trying to extract information from her rather than her getting it from me, she knew basic things - like Hogwarts school and the ministry but no real details. She knew the houses, more about Slytheirn than the others. I remember the day I met her and her dark haired parents.

I tried my best to remember the day I met her, when she so casually said she was not allowed to have a name, I remember going into the office with Mrs Cole and I remember the money - lots of it - her parents must have bribed the matron with. I remember being annoyed at Mrs Cole for filling out the paperwork instead of listening to me.

But I remembered the paperwork, the paperwork signed by both of her parents.

The names still evaded me though I knew that was all I needed to confirm my suspicions, and being into the small grey office so often made breaking into it easy work. There was mountains of paperwork, though Mrs Cole had always been a well organised woman and her logical organisation of her documents made Victoria's paperwork easy to locate - and Acturus and Melaina Black's signature's somehow didn't surprise me.

She was not only a witch, but she was a pureblood which meant she'd be getting her Hogwarts letter next year - that thought alone made me so happy, I was excited, to think of all the things magic could do for the girl, to take her with him and raise her away from this place - she wouldn't be weak becasue a witch couldn't be weak - she would be okay again. She no longer needed to worry about her own mortality - for I refused to believe she would die though she thought it was ineviable, I knew I could find a way for the two of us to live forever.

Victoria was born on the 13th September, so I would be at Hogwarts the day she got her letter and wouldn't see her until the next summer. The thought would put me in high spirits during my third year at school as the holidays approached. But I didn't tell her - she never did too well when I brought up her family and past, though I was definately interested in it, as much as my own, in fact. The most I'd gotten from her was her retelling me the tales of Beedle the Bard. She'd told me a few stories that she remembered, like 'the warlock's hairy heart and 'babbity rabbity and her cackling stump' but my favourite was the Tale of the Three Brothers, and knowing there was truth to muggle fairytales - I currently was living in one, it seemed - I thought there may be truth to the gifts given by death as well, a wand to kill people with, a stone to control them and a cloak to hide from them. I wondered.


	6. The Fifth Chapter

**A Magical Muggle**

 _The Fifth Chapter_

* * *

The end of my third year saw me, for the first time ever excited to go back to the orphanage - to visit Victoria for the last time becasue she would be starting Hogwarts next year, I was so completely sure of it. I'd already deduced she would be a Slytherin alongside me - I'd tell her on the train how Slytherin was the best house, but all the Black family had been in Slytherin and I didn't think she was any different. My friends, my classmates, those I surrounded myself with said their goodbyes to me, promised to write - which they would though I never replied and I was dragging my trunk to where I would meet the driver.

I travelled between the Orphanage and train station by a town car provided, I'd been told by the driver, by the school governers, and I made short work of pulling the trunk from the back of the car and dragging it through the gate of the orphanage, up the front steps and into the dingy hall.

Mrs Cole was in her office. She didn't look up as she called a welcome home. "Victoria is in her room." She told me, correctly assuming I wanted to see the girl, and I knew she wanted to see me and I left my trunk in my own room on the way to see her.

The metal braces were no longer on her legs, nor were they in their place besides the bed, I knew she would be better once she discovered she was magical too. She smiled at me from where she was sitting on her bed. I assumed just as excited to share her news as I was to hear it.

"Hello Tom." Victoria said softly, though she was pleased. I smiled at her.

"Did you get a letter?" I asked her. She looked surprised.

"Did you write me?" She asked, "It musn't have come yet."

"No, no, for your birthday, come on Victoria Smith I want to see your letter." I insisted, barely containing my excitement now. She looked confused, and that then confused me becasue the emotion was genuine.

"Victoria," I said slowly, "You're parents were the Blacks, you're a witch, you should have gotten a letter; your Hogwarts letter; your eleventh birthday."

She shook her head, and I saw something I'd never ever seen before. She was angry with me. "Thats not your business, Tom, it's my secret and you shouldn't know that." She spat, I was taken aback by her tone, she'd never used a tone like that before, least of all with me.

"Its who you are, you're a Black, Victoria-"

"No, no I am not Tom, I haven't been a Black for a long time, before my parents left me here, even." She said shortly, now she was upset, and I felt as though maybe I should apologise to her, but I dismissed the thought - I'd done nothing wrong. I was about to argue more, tell her that it doesn't change her being a witch but the bells for dinnertime rang, I made to leave though she called to me, despite her anger, which was deflating. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, I shouldn't keep secrets from my best friend. You understand that I will though, like you keep secrets from me."

Worded like a question though it wasn't one, I smiled so she new she was forgiven. I waited for her now, we would go to dinner together. "Could you help me, Tom please?" She asked, she was pointing across the room to an odd contraption, metal and fabric, I passed the large square to her and she pulled it, but wasn't strong enough. There were two handles and I pulled them apart. A seat folded out, a wheel either side. She crawled into the chair, using her arms to place her legs on the steps.

"No." I muttered frowning at her, even weaker than before. "No, no Victoria stand up!" I demanded. She flinched at the order.

"Tom, I can't" She said gently. I breathed in a ragged breath, I felt as though I couldn't get enough air, I wiped an itch in the corner of my eye and my fingers came away wet. "I'm sorry Tom, don't cry, please." She begged me but I felt I couldn't stay around her any longer and ran from the room.

I don't know how she got up and down the stairs for dinner, I don't know how she did it with a plate for me but she did. After dinner she was there, wheeling into my little bedroom with a plate of rationed food on her knees.

"You knew I was sick." She said, passing me the food. I'd been crying, but had stopped now and wouldn't cry about it again, crying made me feel weak, and I could not be weak.

"You're a witch, though. Witches aren't so weak."

"I'm a squib." She corrected, I frowned at the unfamilliar word. "It means I was born with no magic, Tom why did you think my parents would leave me here?"

"I didn't know." I said, and indeed every theory I'd come up with the sweet little girl had dispelled within two weeks of my knowing her. She grabed my hand and held it. I didn't know what to think of the contact. "How... how long?" I asked, meaning how long had she been in the wheelchair - I showed her I meant this by pointing to the damned contraption.

"A few weeks." She said, "I've been in and out of it before then though. Miss Murdock wanted me to get used to it." She was still holding my hand. "I hate it." She admitted softly. "And I'm scared."

I didn't know what to make of this, if anything, scared of what? The wheelchair? I was still reeling from her defining herself as a squib. And my own dissapointment at knowing I wouldn't have her at Hogwarts with me from now on.

"Tom?" She asked, and I looked at her.

"Don't be scared," I said, "I'll protect you."


	7. The Seventh Part

**Hallow Family Ties**

 _The Seventh Part_

* * *

In my fourth year I met Orion Black, his name at the sorting had caught my attention, whispers from my housemates confirmed he was Arcaturus' son and therefore Victoria's little brother. There was 11 months difference in their ages. I suspected the siblings would have been very close - destined to start Hogwarts together, twins, almost.

I had wondered sometimes about what having a sibling would be like, but dismissed it, a sibling would hardly be useful to me.

I'd been kind to Orion Black and Orion Black trusted me, even though I had, what he called, a nasty muggle name. He was very big in his little boy boots, though many of the people around me were like that, the liked me for my smarts and power and brilliance and hoped to share in that glory. I let them, for now. But Orion Black was a tough nut to crack, if you mentioned his sister he would talk only of Lucretta.

If only there had been an easier way to see the boys thoughts.

I looked, obviously, there were truth potions, the imperious curse, and the mind arts, which intrigued me beyond any magic I had come across so far. I practiced and found this too was a magic which I was talented in.

It was easy to see, through Orion's eyes the life Victora had had before she was taken to the Orphanage. She caused her parents much worry at her apparent and obvious lack of magic, and Orion had always told her she would do magic one day. He was wrong, in the end but the lie had made her hope. I was correct in that they were very close siblngs, such a small age difference.

This new ability came with another benifit, I might see what my teachers and peers really thought of me, all but Dumbeldore - the transfiguration professor whom I'd never really been able to impress, not once in the time I met him that day at the orphanage.

But Dumbeldore had his uses. I learned that year about the Deathly Hallows and learnt my Transfiguration professor had once perused them in his youth. He was not happy at my asing him about the ledgend. I got no information from him or his thoughts which infuriated me, but I did find the chamber of secrets and discovered the monster. Not normally one to give up on a cause like being the master of death I did set it aside for later. I was too intrigued by learning about Victoria form her oblivious little brother and working to tame the beautiful baslilisk I found living under the school. Though my immature attempt to get information from the old Transfiguration professor made him suspicious of me to the point where there would be lasting damage in that area.

I came back to the Orphanage in the summer with a heavy pit of dread in my stomach, not knowing what state I would find Victoria in this year, though she seemed unchanged, during the day she would tire easily and she was weak, though more proficent with her wheelchair. I still hated the thing, and she assured me she did too.

She was intrigued when I told her I had met her little brother, their affection for each other had been mutual and she enjoyed my stories about him very much, though was disheartened sometimes by my description of him being rude and on occasion small minded. I assured her he would grow out of it.

I told her her brother never spoke of her, which she seemed to think was a very good thing.

"I was worried he would miss me." She told me gently. I shook my head.

"He does," I assured her, it had been in most his thoughts, the lovely little sister he could barely remember but loved with all his heart - I never really understood their closeness, the point to it.

"How can you know that, you told me he never spoke of me?" She asked next.

"I learnd to see the thoughts of others, I can find out anything about anyone." I said to her, to my surprise she looked horrified at me.

"I don't want you knowing my mind," She said, "You violated his, his thoughts - the thoughts of anyone are their own and private. You have no right, Tom."

I was insulted by her opinion, I told her so, but she was strong in some things and her kindness to others was one of them - she wouldn't defend herself against a bully but would tell me how I should treat people she didn't know or care about.

"There are ways to sheild the mind, if someone is too weak to learn their mind is forfit." I explained.

"You always say I am weak," She said to me then, it made me think. But she didn't deserve special treatment becasue she was unable, or becasue I knew her.

She'd been thinking too, during our silence. And she'd seemed to come to a conclusion.

"I know you." She said, "I know you took an interest in Orion for my sake, I know how you chase after answers, I know you already have the answers you wanted, but I will not let you take pride in what you've done, its wrong, and crule. My name was Aquilla Elladora Black before my parents banned me from its use, a squib is not worthy of a noble name. You wasted your time, Tom."

Spite didn't suit her. Victoria refused to speak to him for two days after that and he was suitably bothered by her words and actions, they made him feel horrible, and they made him hate her - how dare she? A squib, afterall.

Despite this small fight we made up and were back to normal shortly after, better than normal you might say, Victoria on occasion would place a kiss to my cheek, an odd sentiment in itself but I found it endeering. I would not mention her brother, I didn't even bother to tell her about finding the Chamber of Secrets becasue I knew she would misunderstand my purpose in unleashing the monster on the school - she might make me rethink that descision and that wasn't something I wanted, as well I didn't like fighting with her, I valued her company, she was the only person I valued the company of.


	8. The Eight Installment

**Riddle Me This**

 _The Eight Installment_

* * *

In the summer preceeding my fifth year I did not return to the Orphanage right away. The ministry driver was easily tricked into leaving me, the knight but called for and paid with by money given to me by the ever obliging youg Orion Black and the trip to little Hangleton made.

I was going to meet my Uncle Morfin Gaunt.

What I found was pathetic and dissapointed me. What he told me was humiliating and angered me. An injustice had been done to my mother, whom I at this point could only assume was not much better than her blithering brother, which had to be righted.

She should have never been allowed to love a filthy muggle, let alone one as lowly as my namesake, who fufilled everything I thought about him upon meeting my father.

Tom Riddle - the real Tom Riddle becasue I was no longer going to carry his name, ashamed of it, even. Had been furious upon seeing me, he sent me away and I left. I returned to the house later, with my uncle's wand, invisible to the muggles. I watced my father and grandparents for a long time, the information from Professor Slughorn reeling over and over in my brain - a Horcrux. I held a diary - given to me for my sixteenth birthday by Victoria - tightly in my fist as I killed them all, one after the other. They slumped over dead. I knew the spell to contain the torn portion of my soul in the book and cast it.

I felt it then, the tear in the very fabric of myself. It was a profound, unplesant feeling and made me doubt my choice, but it was done, and when it was done I felt no different which had surprised me - I thought the feeling of immortality would be something more tangiable.

I looked at the plain black book, the pages now were empty, and my name 'TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE' was etched into the back cover.

I'd returned my uncle's wand to him, invaded his mind and erased the memories of me, gave him memories of killing the Riddles, took the family ring from him, and left Little Hangelton behind me.

My beeing two days late that summer did not seem to bother Mrs Cole, but Victoria had noticed and wondered where I'd gone. I told her a fraction of the truth - that I'd met my father. I told her how he didn't want me, what sort of man he was. As summer continued I found myself obsessiong over that book, my horcrux, it was hardly well hidden sitting in my otherwise empty box of precious things in the bottom of the wardrobe.

She was observant and asked about the ring on my finger, and I told her about my mother and uncle, the sort of unhinged person he was and who I thought she was, what she'd done to my father and how the horrible man had left her to die. Victoria seemed troubled by the story, and even, upon its completion or part thereof tried to console me - 'That is horrible Tom, I'm so sorry.'

I figured her sympathy would be for my poor mother, but I was confused that she was sympathetic to my father, understanding his fright of me.

"Your mother forced herself on him, Tom, I cannot imagine being violated in a more complete way - to have the choice of who you love taken away." Victoria said, and this I didn't understand.

"Put yourself in his shoes for a moment," She continued, though I did not want to do this, the man was less my father and more my first victim. "That poor man."

I still didn't understand her sympathy and she endavoured for me to understand. "Is there anyone you love?" She asked me and I frowned at the question - love made one weak, as proven by my dead mother and father now. I thought of the people at school and how my affection for them only went as far as their use. Then I thought of the girl in front of me. She was a Black and it was evident in her pale complexion and heavily lidded dark eyes, wild, wavy black hair and high cheekbones. She was beautiful, but she was weak, my companion in the summers who'd I'd been excited to see and who I would worry about.

"Not even yourself, Tom?" She asked sadly. I shook my head.

"I love you," I said and the words sounded thick and out of place coming from my mouth. She blushed, a reaction that caught me off gaurd, Victoria so rarely blushed. She leaned forwards, I knew to kiss my cheek again, like she'd done scarce few times but each I'd found endeering, enjoyed even and purpousefully I turned my head so she would touch her lips to mine.

It was brief. Short and sharp, enjoyable. "I love you too, Tom." She whispered to me, and the words did nothing for me, though I could pretend they had in the aftermath of her actions. Her closeness was enough to make me feel something beyond friendly affection for her.

Three days before the first of September saw Victoria moved to a permanant bed in the small school Infirmary. I'd been the one to help her from the bed in her room and move her to her chair. I carried her down the stairs, for the first time noting in truth how small and weak her body had become. She rested her head on my shoulder as I carried her, and even though the chair was waiting, carried down by Miss Murdock, I ignored it in favour of keeping her close. I spent those three days with her, talking, she would smile and seemed happy to see me on the day I was to leave for school, but I was far from it. I held my box of precious things, the diary inside. It had been bothering me since I arrived at the orphanage. I didn't want to take it to Hogwarts, not with my plans next year, I also didn't want to leave Victoria.

"Tom are you alright?" She asked me, reaching out to touch my face. She was laying in bed and I was sitting on the bed beside her.

"I will miss you," I told her, and her smile warmed my heart.

"I will miss you too, Tom." She said and on an impulse I leaned forward and kissed her. She seemed surprised but delighted, and this kiss lingered, still sweet, enjoyable, not the frantic grabbing of the kisses I'd seen at school. When we parted I'd brushed her cheek with my had.

"I love you." She said again, I did not reply, only gave her my box. Her denemour changed. "What is this?" She asked. I smiled to her.

"It is apart of myself, apart of my very soul. I murderd my father, Victoria for his hateful ways, and this part of me broke away. I've kept it for you." I said to her, a slight lie, but she refused to take the box.

"TOM?" Mrs Cole shouted, meaning the car was waiting.

"Victoria please, I want you to have it-" I began, but she shook her head.

"That is evil, Tom." She told me in no uncertain terms.

"TOM RIDDLE YOU WILL BE _LATE!_ " Mrs Cole called again, I didn't have time to explain, to make her see, that she understood was the most imortant thing to me.

"I can explain," I urged, "Write to me," I left the box with the book inside, she had to understand, I held her face between my hands and kissed her again, short and sharp, like the first we'd shared, though now she was fighting me and I was desperate.

Then I left her for the year.


	9. The Eight Chapter

**Keeping Secrets**

 _The Eighth Chapter_

* * *

My sixth year was my best year yet. The story will be an instant ledgend, of the Chamber of Secrets being opened and the beast killing a mudblood girl. It was a shame that my careful planning and genius had to be acredited to the young oaf Rubes Hagrid. I had returned to the Orphanage full of trepitation - what state would my Victoria be in and would she have understood what I'd done. I never intened to tell her of the chamber, or the murder of the innocent girl. It was nesecary - enjoyable in the execution even but she was too weak to understand why the girl had to die. But she had called my creation of the Horcrux evil - not a term to be used lightly.

"Tom." She said, sadness colouring her tone, which was not how she normally would greet me.

"Victoria." I greeted her, going to her side, she allowed me to sit.

"Do you regret it?" She asked me, and I hesitated. Certainly this past year I'd worried about the diary, my hair had even begun thinning though the difference wasn't notecable to the observer. "Tom this is a part of you." She pushed the book back into my hands. "You're broken." Was all she said. I shook my head, becasue she _was_ wrong.

I didn't want to argue with her, and I left her, perhaps the first summer I spent secluded in my room reading my own diary, showing me the notes she had written in there, talking to this fragment of my soul.

I don't know how many notes she left and how far throguh them I was when the words of my soul sounded wrong how it spoke to Victoria, like it was intent on using her, disgusted at her lack of magic.

I decided she was right - it was evil, what I had done to myself. I left the book in my room and visited her again, summer trickling away as well as the time I could spend with her. She looked surprised to see me.

"I think you were right." I said. She looked even more surprised. "I... that thing is not me." I muttered.

"It is," She insisted, thought I didn't like it. "Its a part of you, a ugly part, a part that I don't love. But still a part of you. I will keep it with me if you want, becasue it is a part of you and I do love you Tom." She said evenly.

"I regret it, making it." I told her. She nodded.

"Why did you?" She asks me, and I do feel guilty now.

"If apart of my soul is always earthbound I cannot die." I tell her and her face crumples.

"I can assure you a half life is hardly worth the life, Tom." She says and this confuses me. She seemes to sense my confusion. "Look at me," She tells me, and with difficulty pushes her comforter back. She's so thin, delapitated even, weak, always so weak. "Imagine when you come back after you die you would be a creature like me. Sick, twisted even, a shadow of a person."

I didn't understand her mood, she'd never reffered to herself as such before and I didn't know what had brought on these words and actions from her.

"Tom, Miss Murdock says I will die, soon." She tells me next. I shake my head and go to her.

"Don't say things like that," I urge her, "Its not true."

"Ten years or so." She mutteres, "Likely less, two maybe, ten would be the best I could hope for. But even if I had the option, Tom I would not do what you've done to save myself."

Her words stung and I glared at her. "You have no right to judge me." I said, "You don't know me." I tell her. She raised her eyebrow, a quizzical look.

"Don't I?" She asked.

"If you're already giving up why haven't you killed yourself?" I ask her, maybe too harshly, she sighs.

"I've thought about it." She admits, which also surprised me. I told her she doesn't know me, and maybe its true, but I'm learning she still has secrets from me. "But my life is still a gift - I plan to treasure what little I have." Her words touched me, though I had no reply. "That and I wouldn't want to miss my time with you." I was thrown, she'd said she loved me - I'd replied the same, but I didn't know that I was that important to her.

My days with her continued on like this, she grew weaker and would tire easily and I found myself going to sit with her while she was asleep. It was during one of these days - she was sleeping fitfully, her breathing laboured and brows knitted together in her sleep that I came across a conversation between the fragment of my soul and her that would stay with me forever.

 _He doesn't know what is being said here, you two are seperate entities entierly now?_

 _Yes._

 _You're not like him._

 _Sounds like an accusation. You've said I'm apart of him. I wouldn't expect a muggle to understand the complexities of this magic, this is the darkest kind of magic._

 _I can tell. All in an attempt to fly from death, then?_

 _We are immortal together._

 _I admire your togetherness, Volant._

 _Volant?_

 _Volant Mortem. I've named you, becasue you are not Tom._

Here I had smiled sadly at Victoria's logic.

 _Latin, all the purebloods learn from birth. Literal translation of course. The words remind me of Tom Marvolo Riddle, the letters simmilar._

 _I could fashion myself a name from that. Its enough._

Below this was what I might only describe as a picture, _TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE_ was written in my own hand, letters crossed out, I recognised pen strokes from Victoria as well, she had helped Volant.

At the bottom of the page, aslo in my hand was written;

 _I AM LORD VOLDEMORT_

Quite against my direction the words on the page dissapeared, to be replaced by somehting else.

 _She is a weakness, Tom._

Volant was speaking with me.

 _She is your greatest weakness, you know this, and she will die, she's just a muggle._

I snapped the book shut then, but the words - my own worried thoughts after all haunted me.

Victoria became weaker, and the nurse told me she was in a lot of pain, though she was also doing well, by this stage in her illness. That her outlsating two years seemed very likely. She seemed less than pleased at the news.

"I'm just tired," Had been her first argument, but her second was what drove my descicion, words I would hear again and again in my life but never truly understand.

"There are worse things than death."

I wondered how she dared say that to me, I knew she was smarter than to not fear her own death, above all else.

She was weaker than I expected.

The actual process that made my descision is long and complicated, and you must understand it was the right choice to make - she deserved it. Firstly the differentiation between my horcrux and I angered me, for we were two parts of one whole, I must say I grew to love the Horcrux she dubbed Volant. The name, Lord Voldemort, was made for me, I am Lord Voldemort, destined to be a feared Lord of all, and Victoria Smith, or Aquilla Black whoever she was was a weakness, and only my killing her would make me stronger.

She seemed to know what I was there to do. Pleaded with me not to - another show of her weakness, she couldn't defend herself so I was within my right.

"You promised to protect me." She told me, "Tom please?"

I was unsympathetic to her pleas. She watched my wand with wide eyes. I made to talk to her, to tell her I loved her, to thank her for my new name and purpose, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. Only the words of the killing curse and in a flash of green she was dead. I had in my pocket the pretty stone she'd gifted me, inteneding to ancor more of my soul to the world, I felt the fabric of myself tear, I felt this profound feeling in my chest, my very heart it seemed to tear, I made to say the incantation, but the words got stuck in my throat. For a fleeting moment I felt I couldn't sully her death with this act of evil, what she deemed evil. I missed my chance, that hesitation, and apart of me died with Victoria Smith that day.

I sat with her for a long time after that, her dark eyes unseeing until I closed them and she could be sleeping. Then I left, and in the middle of the night I was woken by the tearful nurse.

"Victoria passed in her sleep, Tom she's dead."

I knew this, I'd done the deed but my heart still clenched with sorrow and fear and heartbreak, hurt. The feeling, the feeling of death I thought, was enough to reinforce my rightousness about the Horcruxes I would make.


	10. Volant Ex Mortem

**_Victoria Smith_**

 _1928-1943_

 _Volant ex Mortem_

* * *

I'd visited only once after her funeral, after I graduated from Hogwarts and would never ever go back. They asked me what words should go on her gravestone and for some reason I told them my namesake. She was dead now, my greatest weakness destroyed, and no one would ever make the connection between her and I. In a cemetry up the road from Wool's orphanage she was burried, I would never go back, but I would think of her. She was the reason for my fear of death, my hatred of hesitation, she was my conviction and motivation, she was how I knew, without a doubt that I was an evil man.

I often wondered through my life what her advise would be, about the defense job I didn't get, the dissapointing Job at Borgin and Burkes, my sending the house elf to azkaban for the murder of her mistress. What her thoughts on the prophecy would be. I often wondered, saydreamed you coud say of a life where she was Aquilla Black and she was well and magical; how she might have changed my life, what she would be like as an adult, an elder, a mother, even, thoughts that had itruded on me when thinking about my brief, sad meeting with the mudblood Potter.

More disturbing yet, were thoughts of what _our_ children would have been like, had she been a witch and had she lived. I perhaps had the thought twice in my life, of her growing to a young woman and our marriage and having children, what I would call the normal progression of a relationship between a boy and a girl like we were though I also understood I had no desire, capacity or need to live a life like that. Thoughts like this wasted my time and did nothing for my being in a good mood. She was dead, I'd made sure of that.

But I would see her once more, upon my death that is, the final death. When my beloved horcruxes were destroyed and my enemy killed me with pure luck and a second year spell. All my choices up until that moment bared down on me but none more so than the night I'd killed Victoria Smith. I had no regret in me for my choices, I had little to nothing human left by this point, it had been decades since I'd even thought of her for any length of time.

She was strong again, standing tall and proud, young, but older than when she died, Bellatrix would not know my favrotism of her was due to her resemblace to this squib aunt she'd never even know existed. It would have disgusted her, the association with the non magical.

She just stared at me with those familliar dark eyes, I was weak now, the weak one, deformed and bloody. Not aware - a fraction of myself. She would not touch me, would not speak, I didn't know her purpose here, if there was one, she just stared for a long time. I wonder if she met every destroyed piece of my soul, but I knew she hadn't; those parts of myself were destroyed, death was saved for the living.

It was a long time before she left me. I didn't see her again. I finally understood there were worse things than death.


End file.
